


Grain of Salt

by Meowcenary



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley is a brat, Crying, Dom/sub, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), God is a shipper, Insult Kink, Negotiated kink, Other, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Spanking, Subspace, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, everyone is happy at the end, gentle in the sense that he loves him very very much, kind of, like subspace is kinda the whole point of this one folks, two sides of the same coin i say, we knew this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowcenary/pseuds/Meowcenary
Summary: Crowley cannot take a compliment. Aziraphale thinks he might know how to make him.





	Grain of Salt

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley is a man with a vulva. Warning for PIV at the very end.
> 
> This is 5k words of ineffable husbands being kinks because there wasn't enough out there. Write the fic you want to see in the world and all that. Comments welcome and lmk if you want more, that can definitely be arranged.

On their walk home from a decadent meal one evening, Aziraphale noticed Crowley flash a subtle miracle. Crowley didn’t mention it or draw attention to himself but Aziraphale clearly saw the effect. A toddler, running alongside her mother, had failed (in typical toddler fashion) to notice her untied shoestrings. With a quick gesture, Crowley tied them into a neat bow mere moments before she was certain to trip. Because of him, the child ran on unharmed, giggling into the warm summer night. At the sight of this, Aziraphale felt a deep warmth spread from his chest outward. He suppressed it a bit, worrying Crowley might notice a faint glow hovering above his head. 

They were back at the bookshop, two bottles of cabernet in. Aziraphale walked idly past rows of books, running his fingers along their spines. Sometimes he liked to touch them, to remember how they felt in his hands the first time he acquired them. Crowley was pacing behind him, rambling on about and _you know, another thing, I don’t understand why people still eat kale. I might not be human but I am fairly sure_\---somewhere beyond his rant about pet food he wondered what exactly Aziraphale was doing but didn’t dwell on it.

The tactile indulgence Aziraphale was currently engaged in had lit his skin abuzz which left him a bit desperate to get closer to Crowley. The animated demon had a magnetism about him that Aziraphale couldn’t resist in his inebriated state. He walked over to Crowley. As he moved to curl his arm around the demon’s waist, Aziraphale remembered the miracle from earlier in the night. His heart swelled. It wasn’t demonic at all save for the source. And he wasn’t so sure of that anymore either. He leaned into Crowley and brushed his lips along his ear, whispering, “Crowley, my dear, you are such a ni-” Aziraphale was suddenly very dizzy. Crowley had spun him around, pinning him to a case of Aziraphale’s beloved books.

The way Crowley saw it, he was mid-rant when he felt the angel snake an arm around him. The sudden contact wasn’t unwelcome. He had been pacing and babbling to distract himself as he was anxiously waiting for a sign or invitation to get closer to Aziraphale. Suddenly, his body had been wracked by the mixed pleasure and pain of soft lips on ear, and overwhelming fear. The words hit his psyche like like a freight train, sending him spiraling into terror and shame. He’d heard those words before and they had always meant trouble. His subconscious had rejected the compliment like heaven had rejected him. Before he knew what he was doing, he had the angel pinned.

“I’m not nice!” he growled, realizing too late what he had just done. Again, in the back of his mind, was a small meek voice trying desperately to get him to stop but the primal fear of trauma had taken over his actions.

Aziraphale let out a gasp that was more subtle surprise than fear. To Crowley, it seemed the angel was rather pleased with this outcome. “Did you do that on…?”

Aziraphale let a sly angelic grin spread over his face. “Oh, dear. Did I say something?” For months he had been working with Crowley, trying his best to get the demon to take a _blessed_ compliment. It hadn’t worked yet but here, held against a bookshelf, he had an idea. No, this wasn’t his original intention but it might just work out. Aziraphale put his hands around Crowley’s thin waist. His plump fingers held firmly onto burning hips and in an instant he had spun Crowley around with a strength he hadn’t needed in several millennia. 

Crowley now found himself pinned to the bookshelf with his angel pressing his soft and tender weight against him. His hold was more forceful than Crowley predicted. It was easy to forget the polite, well-mannered, well-manicured angel had such strength. “Ah, angel, what are you..” Aziraphale crushed his lips into Crowley’s in a hot, desperate kiss. Crowley’s initial surprised resistance melted to welcome the intrusion of the angel’s warm, electric tongue.

Aziraphale pulled away, “I’m going to teach you a lesson, darling,” he hummed. They had done this before, playing with control and submission. It had become clear that Crowley much preferred to be on the _submission_ side of things. Aziraphale really didn’t mind. He ran his hand up Crowley’s neck, grabbing a handful of Crowley’s ginger locks from the back of his head and tugging. He drew closer, lips millimeters from Crowley’s ear again, “You know what to say if you want me to stop, right dear?”

“Ngk,” Crowley nodded against Aziraphale’s hold.

Aziraphale tightened his grip, “Say it.”

“Yes, angel,” breathed Crowley.

“Good boy. What’s our word?” Aziraphale liked to be as clear as possible. It was easier for them both to relax into their roles if they were clearly, firmly on the same page. He needed Crowley to be able to find acquiescence as much as Crowley needed it.

“Ngk, rubber duck,” he choked out.

Aziraphale purred in his ear, “Yes, dear boy, good job.”

Crowley felt his head spinning and heart thumping. Hearing Aziraphale tell him he had done good for him sent a warm fuzziness spreading from his head through his entire body. He had gone from having his body tense with fear and self hatred, to the promise of an integrated mind/body surrender. Aziraphale’s was the only opinion that had ever mattered to him. He hadn’t even bothered to put too much effort into pleasing God. He respected Aziraphale even if he couldn’t always believe what he was saying. It wasn’t his fault that compliments were so _difficult_.

Aziraphale maintained his hold in Crowley’s hair and began to kiss down his neck, stopping where neck meets clavicle. He found Crowley’s pulse and began to suck a possessive mark into his demon's flesh. Crowley whimpered, squirming under Aziraphale whose supple body was pressing against him, soft but unyielding. He had been marked before, eons ago, but this was different. This was a welcome surrender. Submission to Aziraphale felt familiar and yet it was nothing like the forced servitude he'd suffered in hell. Quickly, ancient memories flooded back to him and he needed to be reminded, needed to rewrite them with his angel.

“Oh! Zira,” Crowley panted. He could feel himself growing hot in his trousers at the thought of being at Aziraphale’s mercy. His divine and deceivingly angelic _mercy_.

“Mhm, my little devil?” Aziraphale grinned into Crowley’s neck.

“Tell me…” Crowley hinted hesitantly.

Aziraphale knew immediately what Crowley wanted him to “tell him” but he was going to have to say it in order to get what he wanted. Aziraphale pulled away from Crowley’s neck so that he was facing his lover. “Tell you what, my dear?” A grin much too devilsh to grace his ethereal lips spread across his face.

Crowley squirmed again. “Tell me...tell me I was bad.” He bit his lip in nervous anticipation. As much as enjoyed being told he was good by Aziraphale, a part of him still needed to hear his angel confirm the thoughts in his head even if it was pretend.

“Mmmm,” Aziraphale purred, “you have been quite the disappointment to me tonight.” They always warmed up this way, working toward Aziraphale’s goal later. Early on, Aziraphale didn’t really understand the point of this game but over time he grew to understand that Crowley needed this. Somehow, hearing Aziraphale reciting the things that Crowley told himself all day relaxed the demon. Aziraphale assumed it felt comfortable and familiar to Crowley. It was as though, for the night, Crowley wasn’t so alone in his head. Aziraphale could climb in, join him, and then eventually rearrange his thoughts for the better in a way only an angel could. “You’re such a tempter, my snake. I simply paid you a compliment and what did you do? Why, you hurled me against a bookshelf!”

Crowley’s brow was furrowed, “‘m sorry, Zira,” he muttered with honest regret.

Aziraphale ran his thumb down Crowley’s sharp jawline, “Shh, no time for that now, is there? I think it’s time for your punishment, dear boy.” He brushed Crowley’s lips with his thumb before hooking it into the demon’s mouth to open his jaw. Crowley gasped.

Aziraphale’s words had sent a shiver through Crowley’s body. His cunt was already aching for Aziraphale’s touch. He wanted to be taken. He wanted Aziraphale’s body all over him and yet another part of him was resisting. He wouldn’t be able to stay still or relax into the angel’s touch. Not yet.

Aziraphale replaced his thumb with his tongue, kissing Crolwey’s open mouth with fervor. As soon as Crowley had melted into the kiss again, Aziraphale pulled away and gave him a smack on the arse. “Turn around.” Aziraphale commanded. His ever-kind tone of voice was stronger, deeper, and more confident than usual.

Crowley had spun himself around before he had a moment to process the words. He was getting to that point - the point where he was completely in Aziraphale’s hands. Those hands were soft but firm and strong and loving and trustworthy and, most importantly, in control. Aziraphale didn’t ever lose his head. In fact, he liked to know exactly where his mind was at all times. He never expected this lifelong trait to eventually be of use in quite this way, but he wasn’t going to start complaining now.

He stood facing Crowley’s backside and took a moment to admire Crowley’s figure. He really was all Azirapahel had ever wanted for all of time and now he was _here_, like _this_, bending to his will. His demon wiggled a bit as if to say _hey, don’t forget about me_. Aziraphale leaned into Crowley and took in the intoxicating scent of him - musk, leather, ashes, asphalt, campfire. Aziraphale’s heart leapt. He had a role to play but he had no desire to feign stoicism. Their game wasn’t one of falsehoods or cruely. He felt all the love and compassion and the yearning to care for Crowley as always and he never dampened those feelings for anything. Still, he was following one guideline of the game: don’t compliment him, don’t tell him you how much you love him. Not yet. 

He put his energy into giving Crowley what he needed. “You’re such a little brat, Crowley. Always talking back, never listening.” Crowley gave a small whine.

“You want to be close to goodness so badly that you conned an angel into falling in love with you but deep down you’re just a troublemaker. You’ll never be good, Crowley. You’re a demon. Everything you do is bad because _you_ did it.” Crowley stood, allowing the words to wash over him and sink into him. It felt right. It fit but it stung. He liked the combination of familiar and painful. Nostalgia is one word the humans gave to the feeling. It feels like home but it _hurts_.

Aziraphale continued, “You _want_ me to hurt you, Crowley. Only someone who knows they have done something truly wrong would be begging for punishment. That is what you’re doing isn’t it? You hope that if I punish you, you’ll be forgiven. That somehow you’ll atone for all the sins, misdeeds, and temptations you committed along the way? Doubtful, demon. Your punishment will only be a small, flickering light in comparison to the walls of flame that is your sin.” Crowley’s face was turning red but he could feel himself swelling and getting slick in his pants. Aziraphale knew exactly how to hurt him, where to twist the knife to cause the most pain. No one could hurt him like Aziraphale could because no one knew him like he did and, maybe even mostly, because he didn’t care about what anyone thought except for Aziraphale.

Aziraphale wedged a soft khaki-clad thigh between Crowley’s legs and an electric shock ran up the demon’s spine, coming back down to rest in his belly. He was already aching for Aziraphale. The angel could sense Crowley’s want which was made even more apparent as Crowley attempted to grind into Aziraphale’s thigh by bucking his hips back just slightly. Aziraphale pressed harder into Crowley, knowing the demon would be able to feel his growing effort pressed against his taut arse. He could take him right now. Crowley would like that. Aziraphale could tear his trousers down, bend him over, and fuck him standing. But Aziraphale had the control and he resisted the urge. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale pulled away. “Tease,” panted the demon.

Aziraphale grinned behind him and nudged Crowley’s foot with his own, a signal to stand a bit wider. Crowley kicked off his shoes and went to assume his position when he heard, “trousers and pants, too my dear.” Crowley quickly obliged, peeling off his jeans and throwing off his shirt even though he wasn’t asked to. Aziraphale let it slide, it was better for him to be fully exposed anyways. Aziraphale removed his own waistcoat to protect it, untied his bowtie, and rolled up his shirtsleeves but stayed otherwise completely dressed. Crowley assumed his wide legged stance standing against the bookcase. Aziraphale reached a manicured hand between Crowley’s legs. As gently as he could, he grazed Crowley’s slick outer labia with just his fingertips, knowing exactly what it would do to him. Crowley let out a small scream before clamping a hand to his own mouth and whimpering into it. Aziraphale felt his cock jump in his trousers at the sound. “My goodness, you’re soaked dear.” Crowley nodded but didn’t turn to face his angel. Not yet.

Aziraphale cupped his hand firmly around Crowley’s cunt and asked, “Who do you belong to?”

“Ah! A...A...Zira.”

“No,” said Aziraphale with authority, “I’ll have to discipline you for that one. Try again, dear.”

Crowley shuddered. His cunt was dripping into the angel’s palm and he was struggling to draw his mind to anything else. “Aziraphale. I belong to you, Aziraphale,” he gasped. An outsider might assume that all elements of their game were introduced by Crowley but they would be wrong. The entire escapade was co-designed and, as it happened, Aziraphale was the one to introduce possessiveness. Crowley had never seen the appeal until, of course, the right entity wanted to own him. “I belong to _You_,” Crowley stressed the last word. He liked knowing that Aziraphale liked this. He felt wanted and cherished.

“Good job.” Aziraphale moved his hand to brush over Crowley’s arse cheek. He gave a small warning pat. Crowley felt that familiar heat pooling in his groin again and his skin prickled. Right now, standing untouched, he could swear he burned like the first time he met hellfire and they hadn’t even properly started yet. Aziraphale brought his hand down quickly and efficiently. A sharp sting accompanied the _smack_ of the angel’s hand. Crowley’s eyes rolled back and he let himself fall into that familiar space of physicality and sensation as Aziraphale brought his hand down again. Aziraphale’s other hand was on Crowley’s waist, holding him still with a strength and tenderness that said “You’re mine” and “I’ve got you.” Crowley let the sharp sting of Aziraphale’s rhythmed lashes reverberate through his body. Aziraphale’s words washed over him.

“You are such a tempter, converting an angel into your sinful way of life.” Crowley bit his lip and held onto the shelf in front of him for fear of his knees giving out. He was riding waves of pain and desire which made standing upright incredibly difficult. He wanted Aziraphale to take him, to use him, to _make use_ of him and give him a reason to believe he was valuable to his angel.

“But really dear, did you really think I’d ever love you?” A sharp pain formed in Crowley’s chest. _No_, he thought, _not ever_. “You tempted me to love you. It was never my decision and you know it. You are a demon and you wanted a taste of purity. You remember what it was like, don’t you?” Aziraphale brought his hand down and squeezed Crowley’s arse. His cock was straining against his trousers now. He, for a brief moment, wondered what God would think before he remembered that she saw, of course, and he still had his wings so better not fret.

“Zira…” Crowley’s legs were shaking and Aziraphale could see his chest hiccuping slightly. He was holding back tears. This part was always the most difficult for Aziraphale and he had to admit to not completely understanding it. Still, he kept going despite everything in him that told him _stop, go comfort him_. Crowley hadn’t said the words. He hadn’t said anything. Aziraphale kept going. His hand came down harder than before with a _WHACK_ that forced Crowley forward against the bookshelf. Crowley gripped the shelf tighter, panting, sniffling, and shaking. The smacks kept coming. Aziraphale was strong and Crowley knew he would never tire. He’d have to decide when he was finished himself. Crowley was holding back the majority of the tears, only the most insistent few escaped the brim his eyes. His arse was burning and he could feel his own wetness coating his thighs. Aziraphale noticed this. Aziraphale had counted out 20 lashes on each side, leaving his demon red, and burning, and dripping.

“Turn around,” he barked. Crowley released his grip from the shelf and turned to face his angel. The second their eyes met Crowley felt his heart swell with love and wrench with shame in his chest. He didn’t feel deserving. He never did. His angel was so beautiful, so powerful, and so in control. His bottom lip quivered and Aziraphale reached to brush his thumb over it again. “Are you sad my demon? Is it too much?” There was a grit to his voice. He wasn’t really asking so much as taunting. Crowley shook his head ‘no,’ keeping his eyes fixed on the angel. Swiftly, Aziraphale laid a backhand slap across Crowley’s cheek, his signet ring stinging against Crowley’s sharp jaw. The demon’s breath was shaking and tears returned to his eyes, involuntarily spilling over his cheeks. His face burned in shame. _Yes, punish me angel, I am no good, no good, no good._ He gritted his teeth but he stayed standing still, his body tense from bracing himself, looking into his angel’s eyes.

“Good boy,” Aziraphale crooned “you’re mine and you’re done when I say you are, isn’t that right?” Crowley let out a hungry whimper and nodded, adding “Yes, Sir” after collecting his thoughts. The angel who could not help being angelic forgave the pause then growled in desire as he lowered himself slowly to his knees. Aziraphale looked up to Crowley’s ever-watchful gaze. He smiled subtly. He loved when Crowley got to this point, putting his trust into Aziraphale’s hands. He could cherish him and pleasure him and control him when he couldn’t control or understand himself. Crowley was watching Aziraphale, hands on the shelf behind him. He held on tight, forcing himself to resist the urge to grab the angel by the hair and ride his face desperately. Resisting his impulse, he stood waiting in adoring anticipation. Aziraphale ran his hands softly over the backs of Crowley’s thighs. He brushed his fingertips over his red arse and Crowley shuddered but didn’t pull away. The angel’s touch, however slight, sent a shock of arousal right to his aching cunt. He wanted Aziraphale. He needed Aziraphale. He wanted to say _please_, he wanted to tell Aziraphale how much he wanted him but he hadn’t been asked yet. Aziraphale’s watery blue eyes twinkled with a mix of adoration and possessiveness like he wanted to take Crowley in his palm, clutch him tightly, and never let him go. Crowley would have been fine with that arrangement at the moment. All he wanted in the world was his angel’s touch. As though he had been listening to Crowley’s thoughts, Aziraphale asked him, “Are you mine, Crowley? Are you all mine?”

“Yes, yes, Sir.”

“Yes, you are. And I will do with you whatever I want to won’t I?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Aziraphale moved his palm up the front of Crowley’s leg, stopping at his groin. He moved his thumb to hover over Crowley’s throbbing clit. Crowley panted, his breaths shallow as he used every muscle in his body not to buck forward against Aziraphale’s hand. “Beg.” Aziraphale commanded curtly, his adoring eyes icing over. Crowley gasped, “please, p..please, Sir” he stuttered.

“Speak clearly.” Aziraphale was moving his thumb farther away from Crowley’s growing want. 

“Please, Sir, please Aziraphale, I’m yours. You have me, you can do whatever you want with me. Please, Aziraphale, take me!” He wanted to be lost in Aziraphale. He wanted to bend to his will, be taken and told what to do to please him. Just anything to please him.

Aziraphale groaned deep in his chest, a possessive and hungry noise, “You’re a slut for angel tongue aren’t you, demon boy?”

Crowley let out a sob, his mind too blank and still for words as Aziraphale replaced his hand with his open mouth, working his flattened tongue over Crowley’s clit. He grabbed Crowley by the backs of his thighs and pulled him down to grind into his face. Crowley let out a noise that was almost a scream as his thighs shook. “A...A….A…” he tried his angel’s name and couldn’t make all the blasted syllables form on his tongue. That might have had something to do with the fact that he was fully hissing now, clutching onto the shelf so hard he thought it might break.

Aziraphale flicked the tip of his tongue over Crowley’s clit until he was screaming, unaware of how much noise he was really making. He sucked his labia and tasted the salt and sweet of him. Aziraphale’s cock was hard and leaking precum in his trousers but he hardly minded. He was consumed by the taste and the smell and the soft slickness of his precious demon. He dug his fingers into Crowley’s thighs posessively, greedily. He gave Crowley’s clit _almost_ too much to bear then let up and ran his tongue lightly over soft folds. Crowley’s head spun as his body was encased in a safe, soft warmth. Aziraphale was staring up at Crowley again, watching his face flush and his head toss back. He could tell his knees were going weak and his thighs were shaking. Part of Aziraphale wanted to carry his shaking lover over to the sofa, lay him out, admire him, and send him over the edge nested in velvet-clad pillows. Another part of him wanted to see how long he could make him last, how long he could stay standing before he collapsed to the floor. He pulled Crowley closer and dipped his tongue into him, probing his clit with his nose. Crowley’s cunt spasmed and his hand sprang from the shelf to hold Aziraphale’s head in place, grinding on his tongue. The demon made the decision of Aziraphale’s next move for him. Aziraphale could tell Crowley was teetering on the edge, a powerful orgasm threatening to roll through his body. He pulled away and was met with a desperate whimper. “Nnnnn….” Crowley whined.

“What was that, dear?” Aziraphale stood to face him, “did you tell me no?” A devilish grin spread from his lips to the corner of his eyes saying _oh, you’ve sealed your fate now_.

Crowley shook his head. Aziraphale placed his hands around Crowley’s hips and pulled him in, holding him firmly against the angel’s warm and comforting body. He bit down on Crowley’s ear just enough to hurt before whispering, “I believe you just lied to me, my dear.” Crowley clutched his hands into fists, bracing himself for what was coming next. He really would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Aziraphale pulled back and began to walk away. He turned, “you know, dear, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were misbehaving on purpose.” Crowley thought he saw the angel give an impish wink before taking a seat on the plush sofa. “Come,” he gestured to his lap.

Crowley collected himself, his body reeling from his near-orgasm. “Come and lay on my lap, dear. Belly down.” Anticipation of their next scene sent a shock through Crowley’s body. He made his way to the sofa and climbed on, kneeling next to Aziraphale. Aziraphale placed a pillow on his opposite side for Crowley to rest his head on. He moved a hand to caress his demon’s cheek then grabbed Crowley by the hair, pulling him down to lay over his lap. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s swollen cock pressed against his belly as he sunk his face into the pillow. He felt Aziraphale’s hand softly grazing over his arse. He had a different angle now, and more leverage. Crowley knew this was going to _hurt_. His skin was still burning from before and pink-purple bruises were beginning to form. He’d be all black and blue tomorrow but wouldn’t let Aziraphale miracle away his pain. The first smack came down and Crowley instinctively ground his hips into Aziraphale’s leg. He bit the pillow, bracing for the second one. It came down on him like a truck, reverberating through his entire body. The lashes kept coming at a steady, deliberate pace. He was panting and drooling into the pillow, too rapt up in pleasure and consuming pain to care what a mess he looked. He hadn’t even noticed the tears flowing over his cheeks.

“You really are a brat, dear. Always talking back. I can never get you to mind.” Aziraphale planned for this to be his last set of discipline. He was almost done with the game. He wanted to get to the good bit and as they were on his schedule, he could make that happen. Presently, he would enjoy the anticipation and want building in him. His demon was melting under his hand. He’d gone nearly limp, allowing the sensations to pulse through him. He took a break from his discipline to rub his fingers over Crowley’s slick, throbbing, desperate labia. He was swollen with want. Aziraphale felt his clit hard against his fingertips and Crowley spasmed, crying harder into the pillow. Ever so slowly he dipped a finger into his dripping lover. He was watching Crowley’s profile, mesmerized by him. Aziraphale wondered what it was like to give in so completely and took a moment to appreciate all the trust Crowley had given him. Crowley’s body swallowed Aziraphale’s finger with welcome want. Aziraphale gasped, feeling his lover warm and throbbing around him. He knew there was no need to go slowly. He added two more fingers as Crowley bucked his hips back on him. He gave Crowley one more smack, softer than the other ones, just to feel him clamp down on his fingers and grow even wetter. Crowley could barely feel his body as a body. He felt as though he was an immaterial cloud of sensation bending to Aziraphale’s whims, held safely in his hand. He wanted him inside and outside and all around him. He had no idea that he was begging but Aziraphale heard him pleading, “Please, please, please Aziraphale. I need you, I want you, fuck, I pray to you, I bow to you, I am Yours.”

Aziraphale groaned, his cock was painfully hard now, also begging him for attention but he continued to ignore it, only bucking up once into Crowley’s body before removing his fingers. Crowley cried at the sudden absence of his angel, his lover, his world. “NO!”

“It’s ok dear, I’m here.” Crowley had finally fallen into the desired state of egolessness. Aziraphale had broken down his many, many walls, and gates, and barriers. He could finally hear what Aziraphale had to say. Aziraphale softly guided Crowley to his back and propped him up against another pillow. “It’s ok dear, you can relax. I won’t go. I won’t ever, ever go. I never wanted to be away from you, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” Crowley’s tears were flowing again but he kept his eyes closed, fists clutching Aziraphale’s shirt. He wouldn’t be able to process visual stimuli with his head swimming seven galaxies away.

Aziraphale nudged Crowley’s legs open with a knee and settled in, straddling Crowley’s leg. He leaned forward, propping himself up with one hand by Crowley’s face. He held his other hand cupped over Crowley’s desperate vulva. He bowed his head down, placing gentle kisses up the demon’s jaw and cheek until he reached his eyes. “Ready, dear?” He didn’t want to startle the demon with a sudden intrusion as he knew he was only half in this plane of reality. But Crowley was ready and nodded frantically, tilting his hips up, clutching onto his angel’s back. Aziraphale sank his fingers back into his lover, slowly, carefully, until he felt Crowley rocking into him. He placed a kiss on each one of Crowley’s closed eyelids and said “I love you, Crowley” as he bucked his hips forward to give leverage to the fingers inside Crowley. He kissed him deeply, moving his hips to drive his fingers into the velvet warmth of Crowley. Crowley whimpered and pressed his thigh up to grind into Aziraphale’s neglected Effort. “I love you, my demon. I love you, I love you, I forgive you, I see you, I want you, I know you, I love you, I love you. You are _good_ and you are _forgiven_.” Crowley was holding onto Aziraphale like he was afraid one or both of them might float away. The angel could feel Crowley wet and pulsing, clamping down onto his fingers. He massaged his thumb over Crowley’s throbbing clit. “Come for me, darling. Come on, my love. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” Crowley’s orgasm felt as though it started in his body and shot through the universe like a multicolor supernova. The two lovers might as well have been floating in the void of space because as far as Crowley knew, they were the only two things that existed at the moment. He was in Aziraphale’s palm, held like a fragile, precious thing. He felt safe and loved and _worthy_. He heard Aziraphale’s words as though they were sinking into his soul, cleansing him, loving him. He came down slowly to realize he was sobbing into Aziraphale’s shoulder with all his limbs wrapped around him. Aziraphale was petting his hair, holding him in steady arms, whispering in his ear. Crowley’s consciousness settled back into his body, bringing with it a calm and clarity he hadn’t had earlier that evening. He relished the comforting weight of Aziraphale on top of him and the knowledge that he really wasn’t going anywhere. He was here, he was real, and he loved Crowley.

“Zira?” Crowley breathed out shakily, still sobbing weakly.

Aziraphale lifted his face from Crowley’s neck to look him in the eye. “Oh, you’re back,” he smiled, “yes, darling?”

“I believe you,” his eyes gleamed with tears of love and gratitude.

“Oh, my darling. Oh, I’m glad.” Aziraphale was beaming, his heart thrumming in his chest. He brushed a stream of tears from Crowley’s cheek.

As he had settled back in his body he remembered that of his lover’s. “Um, Zira…” his hand slid between them and smoothed over Aziraphale’s burning want. Aziraphale jumped. He had forgotten about himself as he was so concerned for his love. He was familiar with the tears. He knew they were a part of the process, that Crowley needed the release, but he liked to make sure he came down safely. He wanted to be the first thing Crowley felt, and saw, and knew as he transitioned back into this world. He always had been and he had no plan to change that. Remembering himself now, he hummed into Crowley’s neck and welcomed the touch. “We don’t have to, dear,” he whispered and he meant it. He had gotten everything he wanted already tonight. But Crowley knew that. He knew that Aziraphale was in his palm now, in a sense. He had softened his edges from earlier and just wanted to spill love out from every inch of his angelic being. Crowley wanted more of that love. He was still hungry for it. He tugged on Aziraphale’s belt and the angel reached to undo the buckle for him. “You’re sure?”

“Hush angel, let me love you.” Crowley pushed Aziraphale back to lay on the other end of the sofa and removed his shirt and trousers gently. He laid himself on top of the angel, blissfully absorbing his warmth like a snake on a rock. Slowly, he began to grind his vulva, still slick and craving his angel, over Aziraphale’s leaking cock. The angel groaned, throwing his head back. Now that he was reminded of his desire he couldn’t wait much longer. “Ah, Crowley.”

“Yes, angel?”

“Mmmm...don’t stop. Fuck.”

“I wouldn’t dream it angel, not ever.” He brought his mouth down to kiss Aziraphale softly and lifted his hips up. The angel whimpered in protest until Crowley slid down on his cock, taking him inside to the hilt. “Fuck, angel you feel good,” he groaned.

“Ah,” Aziraphale cried, “for you..” he panted. He didn’t realize how much he needed this. He bucked up into Crowley, feeling the silk and heat of his demon’s body around him. “I want you…”

“I’m here.”

Azirpahale clamped his hands around the demon’s hips, guiding him to ride faster and harder. Crowley reached a hand down to work his clit, still throbbing. He rocked back as Aziraphale pushed into him, waves of pleasure washing over him. “Crowley...I want you to come for me, again, if you can.” That is all it took. Crowley sped up his pace and began to shake. Aziraphale held him still and pounded his hips desperately up into him. “Fuck, Crowley, I’m..”

“Ah, come angel, come in me angel. I want you inside me.” Crowley was pulsing on his cock, clutching his chest, face twisted in pleasure. He spilled into his love, his demon, his twin flame. The amount of love that poured from every part of him was almost painful. Crowley basked in it as he saw light fanning out from above his angel’s head. As the shockwaves of their shared orgasm slowed, he collapsed on top of Aziraphale and settled in. Crowley was laughing to himself. “What?” Aziraphale was concerned he’d done something wrong until Crowley answered. “Your halo is showing, angel.” He was still giggling. “Wh-why is that so funny, then?”

“Angel! You’re fucking a demon,” he was resting his face on Aziraphale’s chest, smiling to himself. It was funny, but he was still pretty proud of it.

“Ah, well,” Aziraphale considered being cross before a smile spread over his face, “Ok I guess I see the humor in it dear. I uh, I suppose She doesn’t mind,” he suggested as he gestured to the painted ceiling.

Crowley let out another chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t mind either, angel.” He moved up to kiss Aziraphale again. “Thank you. I love you.” He meant it. He never thought he could have or deserve anything like his angel. He was so good to him.

Aziraphale’s heart swelled and his halo glowed brighter. He ignored Crowley’s reignited laughter, “I love you too, my dear. I just want you to know that.”

“I do, angel. I know.”

”And you are good, my love. You are.”

”...Mm, if you say so.”

”Crowley,” a tinge of his tone from earlier crept in.

”Yes, yes angel. I believe you. It’s just...hard.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s face in his hands, “I know dear. But I am here to remind you.” He pulled Crowley into a kiss and the demon melted into him, pulse quickening in love and appreciation.”

They would discuss their scene later to parse out all the parts they wanted to replay and the bits they could leave out in the future. But for now, they basked in the loving glow of Aziraphale’s halo, trusting that they would both be there for each other the next morning and the one after, and all the mornings until time really did end.


End file.
